Time and Vows
by JustJasper
Summary: 11th Doctor, Canton/OMC. The Doctor turns up to take Canton and the lover he wasn't allowed to marry on a trip. Fluff, humour, adventure.


It was not the first time that the Doctor had stepped out of the TARDIS to find a gun levelled at his forehead. He was sure Amy and Rory would both agree on their lack of surprise about this revelation, but he considered it may not be the best time to wonder what Amy and Rory think, when the hammer of the 1972 Colt Peacemaker .22 was being pulled back by a dark thumb.

"Sweetheart," the man said with a deep southern accent, aiming his words over his shoulder even as he kept his eyes locked on the stranger's, "would you come out here, please?"

The Doctor cast his eyes around, realising he'd materialised in a bedroom. It was not the first time for that, either. It was a simple room outfitted in blue and dark wood, an apartment he could deduce as he spotted the window, and he knew he was in the right place because he could see the Washington Monument in the distance.

"What?" a voice the Doctor recognised came from behind an adjoining door, and he grinned. The man wielding the gun narrowed his eyes slightly. He was tall, broad, dark skin and dark eyes, hair cropped short on his head and styled facial hair that screamed '70's', only wearing a pair of striped pyjama trousers. The Doctor had noticed the smell of sex in the air as soon as he stepped out, and considered it rather unusual that he hadn't arrived five minutes earlier and interrupted something entirely more interesting.

"Get in here." The man repeated his request, voice steady.

Finally, the door opened, and Canton Everett Delaware III strode out in his pyjamas, rubbing a towel over his damp hair. He stopped dead when he saw the Doctor, and then as the Timelord grinned, Canton let out a bark of a laugh.

"Canton!" The Doctor exclaimed, the man with the gun suitably confused to not shoot him when he moved, crossing the space between him and the man he could certainly consider a friend, pulling him into an unashamed hug. Canton returned it rather more stiffly, but he laughed a relieved sort of sound at the contact.

"Canton." The other man said, gesturing his gun at the blue box in their bedroom. "What the hell is goin' on?"

"You didn't tell him about me?" The Doctor said, pulling away from Canton and rocking on the balls of his feet. "Am I your dirty little secret?" he teased.

"Of course I did," Canton assured, "but he thinks the government drugged me and I hallucinated most of what happened."

"Fair enough." The Doctor shrugged.

"Wait, this is the man from Scotland Yard?" he asked. "The secret agent? The guy with the box and the redhead, and the moon landin' thing?"

"Yes." Canton nodded. "Doctor, this is my partner, Ray."

"Yes, 'partner'," The Doctor said, thumbs linking behind his braces and stretching them a little, "I saw you never got married, Nixon never did make any big strides forward for sexual liberation, much the pity."

"He said the moon was far enough." Canton smiled sadly.

"The moon will never be far enough for humanity." The Doctor corrected, grinning at Canton. "You'll never stop, not even when you're galaxies away from the moon and this little blue planet."

"My lord, you're _not_ crazy." Ray said, shaking his head at Canton as he lowered his gun.

"Thanks, Ray." He returned, frowning.

"I love you, sugar, but I was pretty sure you was just a little crazy."

"And you don't now?"

"That blue box just appeared in our bedroom, honey." Ray said, giving him an impatient look. "Like, well, like magic, with some strange sound, like-" he then proceeded to recreate the sound of the TARDIS materialising rather well. The Doctor gave an impressed nod.

"Why are you here?" Canton asked, as Ray moved to the bed to put the gun away. "They're not back, are they?" he looked suddenly concerned.

"Oh, no!" the doctor shook his head, floppy hair bouncing around his forehead. "Purely a recreational visit, Canton, just popping in, just stopping by, well, actually, I was wondering if you'd like to go somewhere positively _splendid_." He said cryptically. "Both of you, of course." He added.

"Where?"

"It's a surprise." The Doctor grinned. "Well actually," he pulled a face, shimmying from side to side a little, "it's not so much a surprise as really rather complex to explain, and we're going to be late."

In the pause that followed, Canton briefly considered that the Doctor was probably immune to the awkwardness of silence.

"Well," Canton said finally, "we wouldn't want to be late."

"Canton, what is goin' on?" Ray looked as confused as he sounded as he pulled a vest down his torso.

"You trust me, right, Ray?" Canton said, pulling his eyes away from the Doctor to look at his lover. "Like you trusted me in Baton Rouge?"

"Yeah, darlin'." He said without pause, smiling sincerely at Canton. "I do. You asking me to trust you again?"

"Yes." Canton nodded.

"Okay. Let's do it. Whatever it is."

"Good!" the Doctor sounded, striding towards the TARDIS. "Ready?"

"Er, we're not gonna get dressed?" Canton asked, gesturing at both the other men in their pyjamas.

"Nope." The Doctor grinned. "Pyjamas are perfectly acceptable attire for space-time travel. C'mon." He pushed open the TARDIS door and nodded his head at it. "In fact," he added as an afterthought, considering Canton, "bring that towel along, too. Can only improve our chances."

Resigned to the absurdity of the Doctor's request, Canton made a 'well-then-let's-do-it' face at Ray, and they both stepped into the TARDIS. Grinning the doctor slipped in behind them, skittering around them towards the elevated console.

"Oh my lord!" Ray exclaimed, turning circles as he tried to take in the entire space at once.

"Come on, you two!" the Doctor called, and Canton put a guiding hand on the middle of his partner's back and steered him up towards the Doctor as the darker man continued to stare around, blinking a little too much in his surprise.

"It's... my word, it's..." Ray tried, faltering and his gesturing hands dropping back to his side.

"Yes, yes." The Doctor dismissed hastily. "We're going to be late." He murmured as he turned a dial on the console.

"Late for what?" Canton asked. The Doctor pushed a lever and adjusted a screen, his movements a perfect combination of graceful and awkward. "Late for what, Doctor?" he repeated. The Doctor gave him a smile that clearly communicated that he expected Canton to have worked their destination out already, and on anyone else it would probably have seem patronising; but this was the Doctor, who grinned so gleefully at the two humans.

"Late for your wedding."


End file.
